Putting Other Things First
by Indigo Tantarian
Summary: Two ways Carlos's dinner with Cecil could have gone. Their relationship isn't quite what either of them expected. It's the thought that counts.
1. Chapter 1

**Putting Other Things First**

Carlos exhaled in satisfaction as he surveyed his kitchenette. He'd been reluctant to take the afternoon off work, but almost immediately he'd been glad he had. There were pots simmering on the stove, the table was set, and there was a delicious smell coming from the oven. He had forgotten once before, but he couldn't bear to see the disappointment in Cecil's eyes again. As if he weren't important enough for Carlos to remember.

Nothing had ever been further from the truth.

Carlos didn't consider himself a great cook. He usually fixed his own food, but it was really just following recipes. That was basically science. And he'd been casually getting bits of information out of Cecil for weeks now in preparation. He'd gone shopping. He'd looked up ingredient substitutes online. When all else failed, he'd called his sister and begged her to send him an emergency care package.

They usually went out for dinner on their dates, and that was nice, but it felt a bit... staged. Carlos was far more of a private person than Cecil, and eating out was great, but he got the feeling Cecil did it to get a higher quality of food.

"You don't have to make anything fancy," Cecil had said when Carlos had sworn (again) that he would make dinner for them. "Even cereal would be lovely. Do you know, I've never told anyone this... but I've always dreamed of just living simply with someone I love. A little house, frozen dinners, sandwiches for lunch, cereal for breakfast, watching old TV shows until bedtime... I guess it's silly, but I don't really need any more than that. That would be perfect."

And Carlos had made up his mind then and there to give Cecil an unforgettable evening. There had been a few minor hiccups, but everything had come together nicely. When Cecil called about the mirage, Carlos felt a little thrill of excitement and looked around. He knew there were cameras around there somewhere.

"Oh, that?" Carlos had said, gesturing cheerfully with the spatula. "That's a mirage. I've seen that one before. When you get the clouds in a certain way and the temperature is where it's at, you can sometimes get this blinking light-mountain-floodplain-masked army mirage. Wow, this is a pretty strong one. It should disappear in an hour or two."

And Cecil had thanked him and reminded him that anything he made would be just perfect, and hung up. Carlos just smiled.

The scientist listened to the end of the show as he turned the burners off, or to a low simmer. He checked the oven. He checked the fridge. He checked the clock (still not working). And he locked up and went out.

When Cecil came out of the station and saw him, his whole face lit up and he ran over, weighed down on one side by his bag.

"Carlos!" he said breathlessly.

Carlos smiled a bit. "I thought I'd pick you up," he said quietly. Cecil quickly got into the car.

"Nothing happened, did it?" Cecil asked anxiously. "Did your refrigerator explode into a white-hot fireball? Did a swarm of gnats fly in the window and devour all the food in the kitchen? Did you get called away on business? Oh no, you're not leaving, are you?"

"No, Cecil, none of that! I just... wanted to pick you up." Carlos glanced over at Cecil, rubbing his fingers anxiously. "I just wanted to see you," he said a little softer.

Cecil's smile blossomed back into existence. "You know I was coming straight to your apartment."

"I know." Carlos reached over to brush his hand lightly over Cecil's arm before starting the car.

The entire way back, Cecil pestered Carlos with questions.

"What did you make? What is it, Carlos? Why won't you tell me? If it didn't turn out right, that's okay. I'm sure I'll like it. We can always have cereal. It doesn't have to be fancy. We can go out if you don't have anything. It's okay. Carlos, just tell me what it is!"

Carlos just smiled and said, "You'll see when we get there."

He made Cecil wait outside for a minute while he rushed in, turned off the stove, and quickly poured and placed the food onto dishes. He raced around doing a few other little things, and took a quick look at the room to be sure it was just right. Then he ran back to the door and opened it just a crack.

"Okay, come on in."

Cecil opened the door and took a step in, then stopped dead, looking around in shock. Carlos had cleaned up the apartment, though there were still stacks of clutter lurking along the walls. He had tried to set some mood lighting, but couldn't get it bright enough to see by, so he had settled for a couple of side lamps and the two tall candles on the table. The air smelled of savory spices and garlic, and candle wax, and sweetness. It almost covered the odd chemical smell that had been there when Carlos had moved in. He had thought about putting on some music, but decided after going back and forth on it all day that it would be too cheesy.

Cecil finally managed to swallow. "C-Carlos," he breathed.

"I'm sorry I forgot last time."

"I... I would have been happy with... just something microwaved..." Cecil looked on the verge of falling over.

"I know. That's why I did this." Carlos gestured. "I know you'd be happy with cereal or TV dinners or something, but... I think you... deserve more than that." He turned away, thinking that might have been too much.

Hands caught him as he stepped away, and arms wrapped around his back. He grunted in surprise and struggled to turn around to return the tight embrace.

"That's the most romantic..." There was a hitch in the radio host's voice.

Carlos laughed awkwardly. "It's not... it's not as fancy as it looks. And you haven't tasted it yet, you might not even like it."

Cecil squeezed harder, burying his face in Carlos's chest. "OH Carlos..." He chuckled shakily.

When they sat down at the small table, Carlos began identifying dishes.

"Okay, there isn't really a... theme here. But we've got some roasted mushrooms... um, like the ones we had at Gino's. On our... our first date. But without the blood. And a tortilla soup my mom used to make every Sunday, I'm not sure I got it right... it smells good and it tastes fine, but it's not quite the same, I don't know what I'm missing. Then there's roast beef. Like... like Arby's. Even though we didn't go in or eat anything that night. I almost tried to make french fries, but that's... harder than you might think, and I thought we needed a protein, and... well, I hope you like it. Um, and I... I don't know wine, but the guy at the Ralph's said this would go well with the food."

Carlos trailed off, looking over at Cecil hopefully. The other man was staring at the table. For a long time he didn't speak.

"...Cecil? Are you... Oh, God, I didn't ask if you were allergic to anything, or... If you don't like it, we can..."

"Carlos," Cecil stopped him, his voice radio-deep. "Don't... don't even question whether you are actually perfect. This..." He trailed off, waving vaguely at the steaming food. "This is probably the most amazing meal I've ever seen."

Carlos blushed and mumbled. "I hope it's good."

"I have no doubts." Cecil was beaming, the love clear on his face.

"Well. At least there's nothing crunchy. You'll be able to eat in peace, I hope." Carlos smiled a little, and Cecil's smile grew even fonder.

When they had finished ("The most delicious meal I've ever tasted, unquestionably"), they put the dishes in the sink and Carlos opened the oven. They both inhaled approvingly.

"It was just going to be a pumpkin pie, but then Erika... the shortest one, I think... showed up with a note from Old Woman Josie, and she said I should put some chocolate in it – how does she know, anyway? But anyway, I tried that, and I hope it's not awful."

Cecil was staring at it. "Is that... a wheat crust?" he asked faintly.

Carlos paused. "...I had my sister mail me the flour. I hope... I wasn't sure if it would be all right. We can just scoop out the filling if... if this is a bad idea."

The radio host was silent for a while. Then he turned to Carlos. "There hasn't been a case of wheat or wheat by-products turning into deadly vipers in almost a year now," he said quietly. "And I wouldn't hear of wasting a bit of this."

Carlos grinned as he began cutting the pie, and Cecil giggled, and they both laughed so hard they were barely able to eat. Afterward they moved to the couch. Carlos put in a DVD of Jurassic Park. They started out about a foot apart, but both gradually moved closer. Cecil rested his head on Carlos's shoulder. Carlos put an arm around Cecil. Cecil slid down and turned a little. Carlos turned and leaned back. Finally Cecil was lying on top of Carlos with one hand tangled in the thick curly black hair, and both of Carlos's arms were around him, hands rubbing his back idly.

"I don't mind that you chew too loudly," Cecil whispered as they both half-watched the brachiosaur herd progress majestically across the plain. "Sometimes I can't concentrate, that's all. But I don't mind."

Carlos was quiet for a moment, still rubbing Cecil's back. "I don't mind that you talk about me on the radio," he finally replied softly. "Even when I blush so hard I can hear the blood pumping."

Cecil sighed happily, melting over him like a warm cheese. "Does that mean I can go back to how perfect you are?"

The scientist laughed and leaned up to kiss Cecil's head. "No. At least one negative trait every time. That was the deal."

"If you say so," the radio host mumbled.

They lay watching the movie for a while. The dinosaurs broke loose. The humans ran and hid.

"I've never felt so good," Cecil murmured into Carlos's neck. "I might never move again."

"You can stay tonight if you want." It was out before Carlos even thought.

Cecil leaned away to look him in the eye. "...Really?" he squeaked.

Carlos looked back at him, and slowly he smiled. "Sure."

He thought Cecil had settled back to watch the movie again, but after a moment the thinner man said quietly, "This relationship isn't exactly what I expected it to be."

Carlos tensed up out of habit, and forced himself to relax. "...Oh?"

"It's so much better." Cecil snuggled down into him again.

Carlos laughed, giving him a slight squeeze. "_Much_ better."


	2. Chapter 2

The scientist surveyed his kitchenette in dismay. It was full of boxes, jars, cans, and bags of various foods. Many of them were open. There was a strong smell of burning, and a sour smell underneath. He'd promised Cecil that he would cook dinner tonight. He had forgotten twice before, and he knew if he forgot again, the fragile balance of this great thing that was blossoming here would shatter.

Carlos didn't cook. He bought prepared food. He ate out. He could make cereal, and he could make a couple of simple sandwiches. And still he'd promised to cook Cecil dinner, telling himself that it couldn't be too hard.

When Cecil had called about the mirage, Carlos was staring at the spatula in his hand in utter defeat.

"Oh, that?" Carlos had said, gesturing hopelessly with the spatula. "That's a mirage. I've seen that one before. When you get the clouds in a certain way and the temperature is where it's at, you can sometimes get this blinking light-mountain-floodplain-masked army mirage. Wow, this is a pretty strong one. It should disappear in an hour or two."

And Cecil had thanked him and reminded him how excited he was for dinner, and hung up. And Carlos had the radio on, and knew there were cameras hidden in the apartment, and wondered where exactly they were and how often Cecil watched the footage.

This was bad, this was terrible, this was a disaster. Cecil was going to be so disappointed. He was going to be furious. He was going to take one look (and one sniff!) at this place and tell Carlos that they needed some time off from each other because Carlos obviously wasn't ready for an adult relationship, or for an adult LIFE.

When Cecil knocked on the door, Carlos's hands were greasy. There was a small burn on his right thumb. He had spilled tomato sauce on his last lab coat. The pasta he was trying to boil on the stove was burning where it lay against the small pot. He answered the door, nearly in tears.

"Cecil, God, I'm so sorry, I just – I can't cook, I couldn't do it to save my life, I've been trying all day and I haven't made ONE single edible thing. I've got no idea what... I mean, what am I doing wrong here? They say everybody can boil water, right? I'm a scientist, I do it all the time! What... I don't even know what my problem is! I – I'm sorry, Cecil, so sorry. I really tried."

Cecil stared at the disaster over Carlos's shoulder. "What... were you trying to make?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know. Everything?" Carlos mumbled.

A warm hand grasped his arm firmly and squeezed. "Let's see what's left," Cecil said with a small smile."

"Probably nothing."

"There must be SOMETHING. What do you usually eat, Carlos?"

"Cereal. Take-out. Sandwiches."

"Oh, Carlos..." Cecil rubbed his arm gently and leaned in to kiss Carlos's temple. "Let's have cereal. Free of wheat and wheat by-products, of course."

"I – But I was... I wanted to make you something special, Cecil."

"Pour my milk," Cecil whispered in his ear. "That's special enough."

"This – I really am sorry."

"Don't be." Cecil smiled slightly. "Look at all the trouble you went through! I'm honored, and I'm touched that you would do that for me. Don't worry about it."

Carlos stood there and sniffled a little.

Cecil laughed and kissed Carlos again. "Really. Cereal would be lovely. Do you know, I've never told anyone this... but I've always dreamed of just living simply with someone I love. A little house, frozen dinners, sandwiches for lunch, cereal for breakfast, watching old TV shows until bedtime... I guess it's silly, but I don't really need any more than that. This will be perfect. ...But if you like, I can show you how to make a few simple things this weekend."

"I – I'd like that," Carlos mumbled. "If you don't mind."

"Never. I'd be glad to." Cecil stood back and stared at Carlos for a long moment.

"I know, I'm covered in grime," Carlos mumbled.

"No, I wasn't thinking about that, though you have a bit of something glowing green just under your left ear – There, you got it." Cecil smiled. "I was just thinking... this relationship isn't exactly what I expected it to be."

Carlos's heart plummeted. "I'm so sorry, Cecil," he choked out.

The radio host shook his head. "No, I'm glad. It's... more interesting. More real. More worth it. Better."

"Better?"

"Better."


End file.
